


Rose Petals Always Fall

by neptunedemon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Crimson Flower Route, Edeleth, Edelgard POV, F/F, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: Edelgard falls slowly: her pieces peel off like petals, and as they flutter downward, they catch the heat of the summer sun. They’re set aflame and she’s a pyre of dreams and wishes and wants.But there’s someone there to catch her, all of her, from blistered skin to bone-dry thorns.





	Rose Petals Always Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is some meandering prose through Edelgard's thoughts. I usually start with something like this when I write for a new fandom to practice getting into a character's head space. Please enjoy!

When Edelgard falls, the whole world tumbles with her. She tears everything from the sea to the stars down — and everything is on fire, burning so it can start anew, but all she knows is that her fall took Byleth down, too. And that’s why she is here in her arms. 

She is still. 

Edelgard’s eyes burn and it is not from the flames. Her mind rewinds.

=====☼=====

Byleth saves her. When her plan of ambush goes awry, when the cruel irony of this world has its fill yet again, Byleth stood in the way of her and the enemy. For just a second, she’d felt the horror and pain as if this stranger died for her, like maybe in another world or another time, she did. 

But then Byleth knocks the rogue back, owns her stance like a seasoned knight, and Edelgard only has a moment to relish in the heavy beating of her heart before the others arrive to disperse the chaos.

Edelgard feels the beginnings of a fall.

She doesn’t want to fall, though, and she resists so earnestly, even after Byleth implies maybe, just maybe, she’d consider supporting the Adrestian Empire.

Dimitri, combative, tries to swoon Byleth with the fast-talk charm of royalty and kingdoms. Claude meant to play them both for fools. In the pit of her stomach, she feels all the rage for their naivete; at the same time, she is jealous they can approach Byleth this way without the desperation clawing up their spine that Edelgard feels. Her offer to Byleth is one of life or death, freedom or servitude; their offers are politically trivial.

And yet Byleth glances them all, hesitates on Edelgard, and says, “Land of ancient history? Sounds nice.”

That alone is not enough to trust a person. Edelgard holds steadfast against the urge to attach to Byleth, and on their walk to Garreg Mach, she avoids looking her in the eyes again. If she wants her, if she really wants her, then she needs her to come of her own volition, and not lured in like a dog following a bone. There was enough of _that _around Fódlan. 

Hubert asks her what's wrong, because something clearly is when she returns with plus two people rather than minus two. They watch the archbishop fawn over Byleth, her hands wrapped tight around herself like she's restraining something within, but her eyes are misty and far away when she stares at the newcomer, like she's seeing something the rest of them can't. 

Byleth only nods at the archbishop’s words like she nods at everyone else’s words: in blind wonder at the world Jeralt has so effectively shielded her from. 

Then Rhea leads them away. Edelgard watches Byleth’s back, blue hair falling down like a dark sea wave. There's something scary about her. Something one could drown in.

“Lady Edelgard?” Hubert asks. 

She blinks. Turns away. “That man is the Blade Breaker. And the girl is his child.”

“Will they be a problem?”

Edelgard says, “Yes,” and sees the shadow of focus cross Hubert’s face, knows he will take her words literally, but the truth is this: she does not know if this newcomer will be a problem for her dream, or merely for herself. 

~

Byleth _does _choose her. Or well, the Black Eagles, but Edelgard hopes beyond hope that perhaps she caught a glint of determination in Edelgard's eyes and felt inspired. It was too much to wish, so young, so early, that she may have the power to inspire others by her will alone. But she needed to harness that skill — soon it would be time, and she'd need all the persuasive power she could get. 

It was easy to ploy and plot with Hubert and others, those wicked strange things from the shadows, because their goals aligned. They were traversing similar paths. 

Hubert, her most trusted ally, lets Edelgard into his head too easily. She sometimes wondered what he wouldn't believe if the words came from her mouth. 

She walks out of the dorms one early morning, a tremble still in her shoulders from the nightmares. She holds herself tight, breathes in the chill, and looks out over the monastery walls at pink breaking through the grey. 

Today would be the first day Byleth would head their class. 

There's a bang, and a patch of light breaks onto the yard. Then a door slams and the light is gone. A figure jumps off the porch and hits the grass with frightening grace. They take off into a sprint. 

Edelgard blinks. It's the professor. 

~

She stands before the class, unbeknownst to the mastery and authority she holds as she shrugs through the first lesson. She has clearly never done this before but knows what she’s talking about, and her words aren’t embellished with nonsense of the church. They are effortlessly wise, eloquent without trial. Edelgard has never known someone to stump her own mind.

That first week, despite her allure and confidence, Byleth is a little clumsy, because she doesn't know what Crests are, or the church, or her own father, and every piece of history referenced and joke made is lost on her. But Edelgard sees her reading in the library, living among a mountain of books for a week. She runs about the monastery speaking with the students, prying knowledge and secrets from their clenched hands only to place a gift in their palms. 

Edelgard is wary. Hubert aggressively so. There must be something she is after.

They agree to keep their guard up — Edelgard does so by refusing her visits, kindly rejecting her gifts, guarding her secrets. Unsurprisingly, Hubert just tries to scare Byleth. His haunting remarks are met with blinking eyes, like suddenly the common language is foreign to her. 

The following week rolls around, and suddenly Byleth is standing before them a little taller, more confident. 

"Lady Edelgard, are you paying attention?" Hubert chides at her. 

Before she answers, the professor calls out, "Bernadetta!" A resounding squeak cuts through the room. "Bring me Linhardt's books."

"W-what?"

"Bring them to me, quick, before he wakes." And nearly tripping, Berndetta swipes the books from his desk and tumbles them into Byleth's waiting arms. Without explanation, Byleth sets them behind her desk, out-of-sight, and continues the lecture. 

At the end of class Linhardt wakes, staring around himself with bleary half-concern, but no one remarks on the matter. 

When Edelgard sees Byleth knock on his door later, books and classwork in hand, she can't help but grin. 

~

"As Ferdinand von Aegir, eldest son and heir of House Aegir, I think that —" Edelgard wants to throw a book at him. His political ramble is off-topic immediately, but the professor listens and smiles pleasantly and doesn't cut him off. Maybe she's a fool too, gullible enough to be inspired by his blathering.

He finishes his spiel and silence hits the room. 

Then Byleth says, "Who are you again?"

~

Caspar's new mission is to beat Byleth in a race. Dorothea tries to flirt with her but is quickly, painfully smitten, with Byleth smiling unawares. 

(Edelgard shares a sympathetic nod with Dorothea when she catches her eye one day during a lecture.) 

Petra can’t seem to stop staring at Byleth on the battlefield. When asked, she swears she is just mesmerized by her technique. 

Hubert still attempts his cruel antics, but Byleth escapes from the room he corners her in one day, leaving Ferdinand and Hubert alone together. Hubert doesn't try to scare her after that. Edelgard isn't sure why, whether it's for better or worse, and Hubert doesn't want to talk about it. 

Somehow, despite all the scheming that has Edelgard's chest feeling like it weighs a ton, the season ages, time passes. Students begin requesting acceptance into the Black Eagles House. 

This is much to both Edelgard's joy and horror. When the day comes, it's either more to side with her or more to betray. 

She doesn't get her hopes up.

The first gift she accepts from Byleth is a little armored teddy bear; the toy reminds her of one of her few comforts from her childhood. Byleth smiles at her, not seeming to notice the flaming red of Edelgard's face as she tries to not let tears prick her eyes, and she hopes that when the day comes, it'll never have to be her blade that crosses her teacher's throat. 

~

She’s watched all the students chip off a piece of their heart and hand it to Byleth. And somehow Byleth never judges, is never cruel, and her stupid jokes are their own brand of antidote for sadness. So when she comes to her room that one night, she breaks. Byleth even gives her an out, implying she’d been stalking the halls in the night like some animal on the prowl, and Edelgard wants to slap and hug her at the same time. 

So she tells her, lets the blood of her nightmares spill into the hands Byleth always has opened and extended. She does this until she feels well enough again to be embarrassed. Especially when Byleth looks at her like that, with gentle eyes that have the glassy reflection of moonlight in them. She looks faraway when staring at her. 

Her teacher knows there is a distance between them that Edelgard won’t let her cross. 

Suddenly the cold returns — Edelgard hadn’t noticed it flee, off into the corners of the room, shrouded by the bright light of Byleth — and she shakes her head. 

“Forget I said anything,” she tells Byleth, sternness returning to her voice. 

Byleth tilts her head and grins. “Forget what?” But the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. 

~ 

Byleth’s hair goes from the deep sea to the reefs: it’s a transition that puts a terrible weight in Edelgard’s stomach, makes her feel sick and empty. 

“The Goddess,” she says when Edelgard asks who granted her this power. Edelgard can’t believe it, except it’d be dangerous not to. Hubert shoots her a warning glance. She ignores it. As much as this is yet another cruel twist of fate, of evil irony, of the universe laughing at her — she still can’t help but remember how Byleth sliced a gash in the fabric of spacetime and climbed out of the darkness. 

Back to them. Back to her. 

No one had ever come back for her before — not quite like that. Not even Hubert’s strange love could combat it. 

Her heart sweeps a fell beat in her chest. 

“Lady Edelgard,” Hubert says her name and nothing more. It’s a warning, because he knows all too well the sacrifice devotion brings. His sympathy is a cold snake in her stomach.

As much as she wishes she could trap herself in the moments where Byleth is cutting through the stars to find her, and sprinting a whirlwind of blues through the monastery, and leaving flowers outside her door, she cannot think this way. 

Soon her teacher will be only a memory of a beautiful person standing in the tinted light of stained glass windows. Bizarre smile, hair caught between the ocean and the sky, and Edelgard may never truly know the joys of idling. 

~ 

Edelgard can’t look her teacher in the eyes. It’s easier than she expected, thanks to a lifetime of practice harnessing the ability to cut her emotions out and hold back tears. Down here in the Holy Tomb, with a horde of soldiers at the flank of her command, she feels the power she’s been quietly nurturing for so many years. 

It’s time to end Rhea ‘s twisted grasp on Fódlan, time to see an end to the lies. Nothing can come without great sacrifice, and sacrifice she will, and starting now, for however long this takes, Edelgard will stand by her supporters and the Empire and see this to its end. 

This is what she has planned for, and despite tall tales, all is going according to plan. 

Until Byleth steps beside her, declares her allegiance to Edelgard — not the Empire, or any cause, but _Edelgard —_ and everything turns to dust and catches the drafts of change. 

But oh, how beautiful does the dust of shifting days carry through the air, up and away into the dusking sky. 

~ 

Edelgard has a secret place in her desk: it’s a space in a drawer, behind a box, and inside another one. Its worn soft now, with dents and scuffs, but it keeps secure such silly thing like notes she wanted to write her teacher. Drawings she scribbled out with shaky hands in an attempt to catch her face. All the birthday letters she did not send. 

She swears to herself that if Byleth ever returns, she’d stop hesitating. She’d draw her while she was still there and fill her arms with twofold the amount of gifts and cards she’d ever given Edelgard. Her anxieties about her feelings of so many years ago seem silly now. 

She places a new letter in the box and hopes, by some good grace of the universe, that any part of it will reach her teacher. 

It reads:

_ My teacher, _

_ You have been missing for four years now. There are days when, against how I have lived my entire life, I forget that this war is for anything other than finding you again. _

_ This is a newer and worse sort of loneliness than any I’ve felt before. I wonder, often, how many challenges I will face to reach the world I hope to build. I hope it is not selfish to tell you that I have been hurting so. _

_ Sometimes I want to hate you for leaving, whether by accident or not, but, my teacher, I could never hate you. Please, I beg of you, come back: I need you. _

_ How long are you going to keep me waiting? _

_ El _

She stuffs it into the box and takes a sharp breath. Her Empire needs her. 

~

She comes back. Of course she does. 

Byleth tore out of the wilds of no-man’s land to find her, and then again out of the void, and once more she’d sided with her without any knowledge of the cause she was aligning with. 

So of course she returned from some strange wild void of her own mind, of course she found a way out of the depths of an impenetrable slumber and found her, keeping that five-years-old promise.

Edelgard never doubted. 

=====☼=====

And after all that, Byleth dies in her arms, fallen onto the earth with the flames of Edelgard’s dreams.

It feels like a knife wrenched into her gut — her happiest moment twisting into another nightmare. Byleth’s heart does not beat, her breath is still, and there is nothing left. 

The Immaculate One settles into the earth with a dying groan. Somewhere Edelgard can hear the cries of victory, for those in the distance surely saw the beast fall. 

Edelgard will rule in this new era of peace. She will hold herself to her promises and rise to meet all challenges still ahead, but right now she lets herself be selfish. 

She weeps for the woman in her arms. The phantom knife twists, slices up to her heart, and shoves in farther. Oh god, each time she thinks there is no greater pain than that she’s felt, she is proven wrong. 

The air shifts like something has died — a strange energy drifts away like something disintegrating into the wind. She feels it sting her veins, as if her Crest has been activated, but this is from somewhere outside of her. 

Her breath catches as she thinks she sees the gentle flutter of Byleth’s lashes. Edegard presses her head to her chest. 

We fear so much the darkness beyond life, for ourselves and others, because we are so painfully aware that every beat of one’s heart is a beat towards its last. We want to capture the comfort that confirmation of life brings, without the burden that comes with the knowledge that one day it will expire. 

Edelgard is released from that burden because all she’s faced before is infinitely more terrifying. She is finally free, and she can feel deep in the most unfathomable depths of her soul that she will not squander a second, wishing or wasting, and will just _ be. _

She laughs for what feels like the first time ever: the joy bubbles out of her, and the world is filled with hope, love, and all the idle days she deserves. 

Byleth lets herself be held, dazed and sleepy but aware of an embrace, and the gentle sea returns to her hair, its storms calmed, now and forevermore.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/neptunedemon) stanning the our Emperor!


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